It's fine to remember how many times something happened. It is not fine to show yourself a number that means you're behind.
Before the laws
Every tracker becomes a ledger of failure at the moment it shows a count. Streaks, days since, percent complete — each one is a verdict disguised as information. The way out isn't to stop remembering. It's to let the memory shape what is felt — warmth, glow, how a thing deepens when you return — and never let it surface as a digit.
1 of 3
Numbers about them are fine. Numbers about your performance are not.
Because 'sixteen years married' describes a life. 'Last seen eight months ago' describes a debt.
Keep the first kind. Delete the second wherever you find it.
2 of 3
Let the count change what's felt, never what's shown.
Because a glow that deepens with return is honest and kind. A number that grows is a scoreboard.
If something you use shows a streak, cover it for a week and notice whether you keep going.
3 of 3
Re-walking deepens. It never re-counts.
Because the second time through something should feel like the first time, only more so — not like a tally.
When you return to a thing, don't ask how many times. Ask what's different.
The practice
Find every number in your life that measures you against yourself. Decide, one by one, whether it describes a life or a debt. Keep the lives.
Memory is allowed to know. The screen is not allowed to tell.